JACK
by Chibis Unleashed
Summary: Isn't it funny when it's the taxi driver that gets taken for a ride?


"He has the greatest business card," Tooth giggled as she sat down beside Jamie.

"Yeah?" He had a kind of half-smile on his face, the one where he thought he should be amused but wasn't really sure of it.

"Oh, yeah!" Jack jumped to the edge of the couch as if he just remembered and reached into his back pocket to pull one out. He handed it across the coffee table to Jamie then waved his hand dismissively, "Go ahead and keep that one. You know, in case you ever need a taxi."

Jamie couldn't really imagine ever needing a taxi within his own hometown, but life could be funny that way, so he didn't resist. Instead, he rubbed his thumb over the deep black raised print of the thick, linen card that read nothing but, 'Jack,' in all capital letters with just a number underneath.

It was a surprisingly memorable card.

"You must hear story," North declared, leaning against the couch back behind Jack, "It is good one."

"Which story?" Tooth asked, brow furrowing in confusion before it smoothed right back out, "Oh, that story! Yes!" She turned to Jamie and pressed a hand to his knee, "You _need_ to hear it."

"Okay?..." Jamie wasn't sure his consent was actually necessary, but he'd give it for novelty's sake.

"Ugh," Bunny rolled his eyes from where he was leaning against a desk across the room, as if he didn't want to admit to knowing these people. Even Jamie could see right through that act. "Not _this_ one again…"

"Hush," Tooth admonished, "It's a great story."

"It's not _that_ great…"

"It is!" North spoke over both of them and laid a hand on Jack's shoulder, "Jack, tell story."

"Okay," Jack slid back on the couch to settle in, but leaned forward toward Jamie like this was a campfire and not a college lounge, "So I get a call…"

The beach had nearly no parking but _all_ the drinking, so Jack ended up there a lot. Spring break, brides before the wedding, office parties, _every_ St. Patrick's Day, Jack would end up at the beach with the sole purpose of getting people home safely because they sure as hell could not look after themselves.

Which made the sober head that leaned in Jack's window something of a rare surprise, "Jack, right?"

"Yeah," Jack held out his hand for a shake, through the window since that was apparently how they were doing business, "Kozmotis?"

"Call me Pitch," The man, Pitch, said in a rush, shaking the hand, leaning back out, then opening the door, "Mind if I sit up front? Since it's just the two of us."

He was already in the seat, so Jack shrugged, "Sure." He normally wouldn't allow it, especially someone under the influence, but this person was way too steady on his feet for that and Jack got the feeling he could take him in a fight, so. Also, he was kind of cute. "Where to?"

"Bay Harbor Islands, West Broadview. I'll point it out when we get there."

Nobody quite _that_ rich had been in Jack's taxi before. In fact, Jack didn't really believe someone quite that rich was in it, now. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Pitch assured, although even in that sexy accent, it didn't sound reassuring at all, "You know where it is, right?"

"Of course," Jack covered quickly, pulling into traffic and pretending he wasn't being super rude to his customer, "I just don't get asked to go there too often, you know? So what brought you to the beach?"

"Oh you know, the usual," Jack did not know, "Nothing interesting. Forgot my wallet at home, though. I'll have to run in and get it before I can pay you. I hope that's alright?"

That was only alright if it was true. Jack prayed that it was true. "Yeah, sure," He lied, already wondering what he was getting himself into, "So how'd you get my card?"

"A casual acquaintance," Pitch shrugged. "Said it was the best card they'd ever seen. I quite agree," He leaned toward Jack with a smile, "if people are pulling it out at parties to show it off. I can't imagine a more impressive card than that."

It was true. That was exactly Jack's plan in having such a plain, simple card. People were amused by it, wanted to have it, remembered it, and showed it off. They kept it, instead of throwing it out. And that was all Jack needed, because everyone eventually needed a taxi.

Especially on the beach.

"Definitely worth the money," Jack agreed, getting just a tad frustrated with how every one of his questions was being rebuffed with a non-answer and Pitch kept trying to redirect onto him. It wasn't leaving Jack terribly confident that this pretty stranger actually was going to pay him for his services, or, indeed, that he lived on broadview at all, "So hey, did you have a nice night?"

"It was boring, that's why I'm going home," Pitch answered curtly, eyes focused outside of the cab on the people and scenery as they rolled by. Maybe Pitch was just as put off by Jack's redirects, but honestly, only one of them was likely to lose money here, so…

Not too much, at least. Bay Harbor was close to downtown. It was _all_ on the beach, after all. The ocean kind of limited how far away it could really be, so they were already slowing down to pull off onto the island.

Meanwhile, Pitch had solidly shut _that_ line of conversation down. Jack was running out of small talk that might lead back to getting paid. Shit. "You said you'd tell me when?..."

"Oh yes," Pitch perked right back up, reaching into his pocket for...something that wasn't there, by the way he reached into the other, then another, then started patting his jacket, "Huh. I seem to have forgotten my keys."

Jack was so done. "Are you serious?"

"It's fine," Pitch reassured, _again,_ "We'll have to hop the gate, but it's fine."

 _It was not fine._ "Are you serious?" It was worth repeating.

"No, no, really," The man finally seemed to clue in that Jack was not as okay with this as he was, "There's a low spot. It's easy to hop. I can show you exactly where it is. We'll be in in no time."

Pitch was the worst person on the planet at reassuring, Jack decided. "Are you sure you live on Broadview?" Because Jack still wasn't.

" _Yes,"_ Pitch repeated, exasperation entering his tone, "I promise. I just forgot my keys."

"And your wallet."

"And my wallet, yes. Look," He seemed to finally understand how it sounded, "I'm a forgetful person, yes, but I _swear,_ this is my home, and I will pay you."

"Okay," Jack agreed, because he didn't think he had much choice if he wanted to get paid, "Okay, so where is it?"

"Oh shit, stop the car!" Pitch hurried to say and plastered his hands to the window, "It's that one! We're passing it!"

Jack slammed on the brakes and nearly threw Pitch into the dash. _"You forgot you were supposed to be looking for it?"_

"Yes, shut up," Pitch pushed the car door open and hurried up the drive to the gate. Jack decided not to leave his taxi in the road and backed up so that he could park on the swale, then followed the crazy person. He was so going to jail.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Jack said to himself, but Pitch answered anyway.

"It'll be fine. Here's the low spot, boost me up."

It was half-hidden behind a tree, but the roots did make the ground a little higher. Pitch was already reaching up for the tree branches to help climb over, and Jack had to stop and stare at how his position, combined with his head-to-toe black clothes, no matter how expensive they looked in the light, really just made him look like a burglar and holy shit, Jack was going to jail.

"I'm going to jail." He might as well say it.

"No, you're not. Come on."

"You're sure you live here?"

"I am! I do! Just help me over."

"If we get arrested," Jack said, in all seriousness because the situation warranted it, "I'm telling them what you told me."

"Yes, fine," Pitch hurried to agree, waving Jack over hurriedly, "Tell them whatever you want. You're not getting arrested."

"I don't exactly believe you," Jack answered frankly, but he knelt down to boost Pitch up, anyway. It wasn't the _most_ flattering angle for a potential felon, and the dark clothes hid almost everything, but Jack could appreciate the silhouette of his ass as Pitch climbed the gate, regardless.

"I don't see why not," Pitch grumbled as he scrambled down the other side, "Your turn."

Jack didn't need a boost. He was plenty able to climb gates all on his own. Usually, he was proud of that, but right now… "You better live here."

"I _do,"_ Pitch insisted, turning around to head up to the house, "I'll show you. Come on, we just have to jimmy the window open."

Jack suddenly stopped on the lawn, "Oh my God, are you _serious?"_

"Well _how else_ are we getting inside?" Pitch asked in exasperation, "I forgot my keys!"

"But the _window?"_

"It's easier than the door!"

"How do you know this?!"

"I do it a lot!"

" _That's not reassuring."_

"It actually wasn't meant to be," Pitch said in far too even a tone. He looked around briefly for a stick, then began wedging it under the window's seal.

"Oh good, then you're succeeding," Jack couldn't really help with this part, didn't really want to, and didn't think his fingerprints on the window was a terribly good idea, so he loitered suspiciously instead, looking over his shoulder and around at the street while he waited.

He was so going to jail.

"You should relax," Pitch commented, wiggling the branch further into the crack, "You're far too uptight about things."

Jack pressed his hands into his pockets. Under _any_ other circumstances... "Only when going to real jail is involved."

Pitch smirked over his shoulder briefly, "As opposed to fake jail?"

"There was this fundraiser thing once," Jack shrugged.

"Sounds like a fun story," Pitch grunted as he shoved the branch another millimeter in and began to wedge it open, poking in with a smaller stick for the latch, "You should tell me about it."

"Maybe some other time," Jack absently replied, not meaning a word of it. Oh God, he hoped Pitch lived here, because if he didn't, then Jack was aiding in a felony and even if he didn't go to jail, he was going to feel really shitty about somebody losing their… Fuck, Jack didn't even know what people _had_ in a house this expensive. Heirloom Ming Dynasty pottery?

Which was about the time that Jack noticed movement out of the corner of his eye and spun to look. Oh _shit._ Caught up in spiralling thoughts of bad karma and bad ideas, it seemed like a perfectly sane plan to panic, turn on his heels, and dive out of sight into the nearest bushes.

Pitch just watched him go.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"It's the cops!"

"And this is my house."

"You're breaking in!"

"You're allowed to break in to your own house."

"You're _really bad_ at reassuring people!"

"Well, I'm generally not trying, so…" Pitch trailed off as he finally got the latch and the window opened easily for him, "Ah ha! See? I told you I knew what I was doing."

"You're skilled at breaking and entering, yes," Jack pulled himself out of the foliage and brushed off his pants. It was awful that Pitch's easy confidence was kind of hot, because Jack could not find it in him to even attempt to be attractive right now. He was way too on edge, and now there were leaves in his pants. "We already established that."

Pitch was too pleased with his success to care, about Jack's pants or otherwise, "Help me get inside."

"Why do I have to keep helping you?!"

"Because you want to get paid."

Jack groaned and knelt again, because that was true and at least this would get them away from the cops, "As long as it's not with blood diamonds or something."

Pitch snorted and he climbed through the window, "Do you even actually know what those are?"

Jack didn't.

Still.

"I _really_ hope this is actually your house."

Safely on the other side, Pitch rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. "I'll see you at the door," he said, closing the window on Jack's wilting hope.

It wasn't like he had terribly many options, so Jack followed the wall around to the front of the house where Pitch not only had the door open and the porch light on, but he was waiting with his wallet in hand and several folded bills. He looked every bit the rich British playboy in that moment, leaning his back against the carved wood with casual ease, and only then did Jack begin to think this all might have been real.

The bills went directly into Jack's front jeans pocket. He didn't even count them. He was much more interested in the I.D. that Pitch was pulling from the wallet, with his face, his name, and when Pitch gestured with a smile at the numbers beside the door, confirmed his address.

"Okay fine," Jack finally found it in him to laugh at this totally unbelievable situation, "I believe you."

"And that's how I met my boyfriend."

"Wait," Jamie spoke up for the first time in several minutes, finding this the hardest part to believe, "You dated him?"

"I'm still dating him," Jack confirmed with a too cocky grin, "If only for his yacht."

"Oh yes," came an amused voice from the doorway. Jamie turned quickly to see an impossible fondness in golden eyes as they took in Jack sprawled all over the couch. This had to be the infamous Pitch. "You're only with me for my boat."

"Well," Jack shrugged, leaning back against the armrest to look over his shoulder with equal affection in his eyes, _"yeah."_

Bunny groaned and slumped into the desk chair, "I hate this story."

"But it's so cute!" Tooth chimed, smiling first at Jack and Pitch, and then at Jamie, "Don't you think?"

It actually sounded terrifying, but Jamie wasn't sure how to say that. Especially not when it apparently turned out so well.

"It was fate!" North proclaimed with a smack to Jack's shoulder that didn't seem to dim his smile at all.

In fact, he laughed. "It didn't feel like fate," Jack said as he rolled off of the couch so he could tuck himself up under Pitch's arm, "It felt like a really bad idea."

It sounded like a bad idea. Honestly, Jamie wasn't sure, if it had been him, that he would have stuck through it to the end. Jamie couldn't see himself jumping over the gate of a house worth more than his life in the middle of the night on the off-chance that he'd get paid and not killed in a cover-up.

If it had been him, he wouldn't have made it long enough to see love on the other side.

"Most exciting things are," Pitch said, pulling Jamie out of his reverie about an unlikely story he would be unable to forget for the rest of his life, and winked, "What's _fun_ without a little bit of _fear?"_


End file.
